Hey, mama’s chicken is DONE. But that’s not enough for me….
HAH, there are TWO!!! YAY.
Oh, boy, did I wake up from a DEEP sleep.
Mama’s cooking roast chickens for the festival of St. Vincent that this little town holds every year for its patron saint. One of the donkeys told me that St. Vincent came toodling through eons ago on his little donkey and while he was schmoozing with the natives (St. V, that is), his little donkey munched on the grape leaves in the vineyards. And the next year, the harvest was DOUBLE the year before, because the donkey had given the grapes the first pruning they had ever had and so the crop was healthier!
Is that cool or what?
No wonder he’s a patron saint, and no wonder donkeys are held in such esteem here. Those guys know their vino!
So I woke up to these smells of roasting chicken stuffed with lemon, rosemary and thyme and papa came upstairs and saw me sacked out in the middle of the day—the day being full of sunlight and beautiful air and perfect weather for romping in the garden and he said to mama, “Why does a kitty sleep for hours UNDER the bed when she can be out running around in the most perfect weather we have seen so far?”
And frankly, mama had no answer.
So maybe we kitties have this clock that turns our sleep on and off and after breakfast, we just space out and that’s it until dinner. Somebody wrote me a letter a few months ago about kitties needing 15 hours of sleep a day!
Is that right?
Frankly, I’m thinking that mama and papa need about that much sleep per night right now. They are definitely sleep-deprived, and that means they toss around during the night when I’M TRYING TO GET MY BEAUTY REST!
Maybe when old St. Vincent settles out and goes back to his storage place until next year, they can kick back and sleep all day with me.
Get those feet up, mama and papa!
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